Apples, Artichokes, and Poetry.

Simple thoughts, simple desires. I love apples. The crisp crack of a chunk of apple shearing off the body of the fruit and falling delicately into your mouth is quite delicious. Plus, I have now figured out how to break an apple cleanly in half using my finger. No, I do not exaggerate. Simple place your pointer finger across the top of the apple, then sharply rap your other hand against your finger. The apple with cleanly crack down the middle, and with a little prying apart, you will have two symmetrical halves of the fruit.

Speaking of apples, a friend of mine just recently introduced me to the great 20th century poet Pablo Neruda. I picked up a book of his, or rather a compilation of his works, called "Full Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon" (see now the apple reference). The poem this title comes from is sensational and-- take heed-- moderately sensual. His poetry, though written in Spanish-- when rendered into my mother tongue of English-- is some of the most delightful and lyrical free verse I've read. The translation I have is especially good. One such example of the loveliness of his work is one verse called "Ode to the Artichoke":

The artichoke
With a tender heart
Dressed up like a warrior,
Standing at attention, it built
A small helmet
Under its scales
It remained
Unshakeable,
By its side
The crazy vegetables
Uncurled
Their tendrills and leaf-crowns,
Throbbing bulbs,
In the sub-soil
The carrot
With its red mustaches
Was sleeping,
The grapevine
Hung out to dry its branches
Through which the wine will rise...

It continues on, telling of how the artichoke lives and guards the garden, until it is picked, taken to market, sold, taken home, and eaten. Marvelous. I may be fanciful and perhaps simple in my tastes in poetry, but I find it just so very wonderful that a poet can take such a simple subject, and project a whole story and scenario that is entertaining, gripping, and so engaging of the senses.

How beautiful are the little things in life.
How simple. How sweet.

"Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." (Phil. 4:8)

I love poetry. And apples. Artichokes too.

~ ATL